Musicians and Writers
by Romancelover1321
Summary: Sasuke and Sakura fell in love but when Sasuke is scouted by a famous recording studio, he takes the chance, and becomes famous. But when he wants Sakura back can he win her back or is it too late? AU one-shot. Sakura's POV.


I was 14. He was 18.

I loved him. He loved me.

He never told me that he loved me. However, I always could tell by his loving eyes. His sweet words. His gentle rare smiles. His subtle actions. He was a man of few words, who believed the actions of a person spoke louder than their words. It was something that I admired him for.

He wanted to be a musician.

He wanted to make it big in this cold cruel world, proving he was somebody. He wanted to write songs about love, teenagers, family, and just about anything else that came to his mind.

Whenever he finished a new song, he would grab me by the wrist and drag me into our room. And for hours, I would just lie on our bed while he sat on a chair in the middle of the room with his guitar tucked safely in his lap. He would play hours upon hours, the music heavy in the air; the emotions coming from the golden strings would wash over us, like the warm waves of the ocean, inviting and soothing.

The songs were all the same. Sad, but beautiful, that made one's eyes sting with tears and made one's heart give a sad _thump_.

Because of him, I found a love for music.

I vividly remembered the days when something annoyed me, whether it had been a bad day at work or something I wanted at that moment that went _**mysteriously **_missing, I would tell, more like demand, him to play a song for me.

He would sigh, muttering about how woman are so difficult, and he pick up his guitar and place his chair right by the bed I was lying on. Then he started to play.

I would just listen, my chest pressed against his back, and I let the beautiful music take over me like any other time, letting the sad melody tug at my heartstrings and erase the worries and pains of the day.

I wish those moments never ended.

I wanted to be a writer.

I wanted to be able to write creative and imaginative stories that would shine some innocent sunlight in this dark gloomy world. I wanted to be the one to give people hope that the world wasn't only cold, cruel and harsh but that it was possible to find love through all the sorrow, hardships and pain.

If you took out money, dreams, life and other factors, we both only wanted one thing.

He wanted me and I wanted him.

It was one of those days that seemed to go on forever, the kind of day where you stared out the window and thought when is this going to end, when the manager of a recording studio, with the uncreative name Sound Productions, came knocking on our apartment door.

At the time, I was 16 and he was 20.

They told us how they heard his demo CD from a worker and thought he had talent and they would like him to sing for them.

He looked at them with determined eyes and said no.

His reason.

He didn't want to leave me behind.

I convinced him to go, with sad eyes I said, "This is your dream, and I don't want to be the one holding you back."

He turned around and said yes.

They shook hands; I could almost feel the evil and greed pollute the air as the man's lips curled in a smile.

They told him that he had to come to the studio to sign a few papers.

He just nodded.

Before he left, he turned and looked at me with those piercing onyx orbs, and said "Thank you."

I watched him turn around and leave.

SASUKEANDSAKURAFOREVER

It happened so suddenly, a sharp painful tug that left several quakes of pain before they faded into an empty numbness.

I didn't know it before but as I got older I would realized he took my heart.

The moment he walked out that door, watching his broad back retreat further and further away, I knew he wasn't going to come back. Those evil men were going to find some excuse to keep him in their grasp and though he may be able to escape one or two times the chances would get fewer and fewer as he got more and more popular.

And my last memory of him would him staring at me with those midnight black orbs, a smile in his voice as he softly spoke the words thank you for some reason I did not know.

I never expected him to say I love you. I knew he wasn't that type of person and I didn't feel like pressuring him. I was scared that if I pressured him to say I love you, he would leave and I didn't think my heart could take that.

However, at that time, at that moment, all I wanted to hear were those three special words.

Those three little words!

How hard was it to say three words, three syllables, two pronouns and a verb?

I continued watching him as he climbed into the backseat of a sleek black sports car and I smiled, despite my feelings of anger and sadness. In my heart, I knew the answer even though my head remained stubborn and didn't want to admit it.

It's very hard to say I love you. Because saying I love you means that you leave yourself vulnerable to someone and that was something he could never do.

Because saying the words I love you meant giving your whole heart to just one person out of all the millions of people in the world. And even though you knew that other person really well, put all your trust into them, it is still difficult to let that person have your heart, the one thing that is truly ours in this world.

And when you give someone your heart, when that person leaves, they may take your heart and just leave you numb empty feeling that haunts you for the rest of your life. But sometimes people are crueler and they leave the heart, with all the sweet memories, to poke and prod the mind and all its confused thoughts until all that person had left was the fear of insanity and the pain of misery. And all humans, no matter how brave or proud they are, are afraid of pain.

Giving your heart to someone means it is easy for that person to break it into tiny little pieces. At least when your heart is with you, you knew it was safe.

I collapsed, right there in the doorway, a crumpled broken heap. And I cried and cried and cried until my eyes felt swollen and my tears ran dry, the dry tearstains irritating the smooth skin of my cheeks.

I believe that maybe we were ready for that type of commitment. That maybe I was the exception in his world and that I could maybe be one of the few people who could get him to say those three sacred words.

But as I stared out into the darkened street, the moon slowly crawling its way up the blue velvety sky, I knew I was just dreaming. I was dreaming of something _I _wanted and at that time, besides being a musician, I wasn't quite sure what _he _wanted.

SASUKEANDSAKURAFOREVER

Seconds, minutes, hours, days, months, years slowly crawled by and I had yet to see his face.

I knew, I truly did, that he was probably busy and that he would have very few chances to see or talk to me but he never did call me. He didn't even call to say "I'm sorry" or "I was busy" followed by some lame excuse.

So I stopped waiting. I stopped sitting by the telephone, curled up in my old ratty pajamas, staring at the door for hours upon hours just waiting for him to bust through those doors with a big smile on his face or the phone to ring its shrill cry and his silky voice come out of the electronic device.

I waited for like that for three weeks and by the end of the third week, I realized that he wasn't going to come back. So instead, I started focusing on school.

I studied until my brain couldn't tell the difference between the grey hues of the notes written by a mechanical pencil to the bright black ink that stood out from the fingerprint covered computer paper.

I listened to the teachers attentively, writing down what they said as the form of notes, buying at least a notebook a week because of the excessive amount of notes I constantly wrote.

I hung out with friends, laughed fake laughs, smiled fake smiles, said funny jokes, the only difference was I acted a little more sarcastic than usual but it wasn't such a big surprise, and they had gotten over it quickly. But no matter what I did, I still felt _it_.

It was a numbing loneliness that slowly grown until it had complete taken over and shrouded the empty space where my heart belonged with its cold numbing pain. And sometimes it made me regret everything that happened with him, missing the days when my heart was mine and mine alone.

No one noticed my pain. No one noticed my suffering. No one looked at me long enough to see that I was hurting. That I wanted to cry. That I wanted to scream. That I wanted to shout how this was all unfair while he got famous I was stuck in an empty apartment filled with the sweetest of memories, suffering from a broken heart.

But the reason nobody noticed was that nobody cared. They all were busy in their little lives, heads obsessed about the trendiest expensive clothing, newest make up and hair dos and accessories, skinny supermodels, to notice that someone else was hurting.

And I was just fine with that. Because it delayed me from seeing just how broken I was. It delayed me from seeing just how much pain I was in. And despite what people say, I believed that a numbing loneliness was better than feeling pain all the time. Because if you felt pain all the time, you were forced to accept the fact you were broken and that you might need help.

I didn't want help. I was afraid of the pain and all the suffering it would cause and I was fine with leaving it that way, letting it get worse and worse as the years went on.

Though I hated myself for it, over the years I watched him on my dusty old TV screen, crying at his glittering black orbs and crocked smile.

I watched as he rose higher and higher until he became the most successful musician his age, only out done by those who were either legends or extremely talented younger people.

I watched every Grammy or whatever the name of the award show was that year, gazing at him as he held multiple gold trophies in his hand, his dazzling crocked smile making me miss him more and more.

I bought every magazine that mentioned him, cover page or not and read the article until I knew the times new roman black hued words by heart. I had collected so many magazines with the mention of him that I filled my bookcase to the brim and the woman at the Wal-Mart already knew me by a first name bases.

Sad, isn't it.

I also watched him become the one of the most wanted bachelors of his time.

I also kept up with latest interviews and one the most asked question of all time was who inspired this song or that song.

His answer was always the same, "It was for her."

This lead the press to spew out names of famous women, married or not, and he denied them all. And I would guiltily listen to the newest scandals and rumors, the same thought always ran through my head. How could someone like me compete with god like women like them?

But another thought ran through my head as I sat on my couch, watching the TV screen, crying and smiling, believing for just that moment that the _her_ he was talking about could possibly be me and that there was the slim chance that he was still in love with me.

With me!

But then the next day would come and I would hear of another rumored woman, who was always more beautiful then the next, and it made my stomach, because my heart was still with him, plummet and churn and I shrunk back to being my old miserable self.

In high school, I did have someone who I could really call a friend. Her name was TenTen and though we were different, we did have a few things in common, such as our hate from preppy, material obsessed woman. I also found that it was easy to talk to her and after one mental break down in school I told her about my situation. She didn't squeal, I assumed if she was going to be surprised she would gasp, or do anything that would irritate my eardrums but she just stared at me with knowing amber eyes and I knew that she could see past my happy façade.

And every time I heard the newest woman she would tell me one thing and one thing only.

Their words, not his. And the moment he said he loved one of those women, she would allow me to buy several ice cream cartons and cry buckets of tears as I stuffed my face with ice cream.

And I knew she was right but the press had a way of drawing you in and seducing you with their words that one started to believe in everything they said. Why would _he_ love someone as plain as me when he could have one of those ridiculously skinny talented beautiful women?

I was a freak! I had pink hair for God's sake!

Those nights, I alternated from eating cookie dough ice cream, to crying, then back to eating, then back to crying and the cycle went on like that till my eyes were swollen and I was puking in the toilet.

At 18, I went to college, where I graduated four years later at the age 22, all while working as a waitress, still watching and crying over him.

By 24, I already wrote a best seller called The Catty Thief.

It was about a famous star known for his lack of commitment and player like ways, who was dared by one of his friends at bar to try to win the heart of woman sitting across the room. To his surprise the woman hated all celebrities, what seemed originally like a simple task was going to turn his world upside down.

It was quite cute if I say so myself.

Despite what my friends thought, and maybe what you think I did **NOT** (re-read the bolded word at least ten times) base that book off _him_. In fact, he hated woman so much I accused him of being gay when I met him.

By 26, I wrote The Heart Taker, sequel to The Catty Thief.

Two years go by and on a whim the celebrity joins the army, leaving the woman to go fight the bloody war in Iraq. At first, he sends letters but soon his letters start coming further and further apart until they ultimately loose communication. A month latter, the woman receives a letter saying that her husband died in battle.

And as much as I hate to admit, I did base that book of him, from the title to the very last word. I wrote almost entirely the whole book with him in mind and tears in my eyes, ice cream close by in case I had a mental break down. Let's just say the woman at Wal-Mart was saving any magazines that mentioned him for me.

In the latest interview, finally got around to buy Direct TV so any interviews I missed I recorded, the interviewer asked if he had read any of my books. He replied by saying he read both books and loved them very much and the he couldn't wait until the next one came out.

Oddly, the press didn't accuse him of loving me.

Stupid idiots.

At 28, I wrote Please Come Back with the Key, the third and final book to the series.

This was the first award that I ever got on one of my books.

It was about how the celebrity comes back with a child in his arms. At first, the woman is happy to see that her lover is still alive but believes he cheated on her after noticing the child. During a fight, the man told the woman how it is one of his comrades, who had been raped by a higher-ranking officer and died during childbirth. He said right before she died, he made a promise to take care of her baby for her. He then left, telling the woman that he would be at the Eight Motel if he needed him. Two weeks later the woman managed to gather enough courage to see the celebrity. At the motel they make up, and the woman agrees to help raise the baby. Together they go through the hardships of parenthood and find a love not only in each other but for a child.

I liked it even better than The Catty Thief and The Heart Taker.

SASUKEANDSAKURAFOREVER

A major surprise came to me when I opened the door to my apartment two weeks later to find the most famous director of all times, Chris Thompson, standing in my door.

I knew I was either drooling or my eyes were falling out of their sockets, so I quickly fixed myself up and invited him in for tea, almost breaking out into a run as I tried to get to the kitchen to make the said tea when he accepted the offer.

After a short casual chitchat, all the while sipping on sweetened hot tea, I finally got up the courage to ask why he came to my apartment. With a smile, the man was in his thirties and still so good looking that his smile made me swoon inwardly; he told that he wanted to make the third book into a movie.

I nearly fainted. Chris Thompson was known for creating several of the greatest authors books in history into excellent suspenseful and romantic movies that made buckoo bucks. I was surprised at the fact that he thought my book was good enough to turn it into a movie.

After getting hold of myself, I told him my answer was yes. After I accepted his offer, he explained to me a brief overview of the weeks and months to come, saying that the most important things we had to do first. The first thing was to pick a script writer, even though I was the writer of the book I told him I was ill prepared to write the script for it, and the second was to audition people for the cast and find crew workers.

Before leaving, he reassured me I would be the one with the final say in everything, from the cast and crew, to script, and the music.

After closing the door, I jumped up and down squealing, before I reached a point where I could behave like a proper woman, someone who had manners, and not like a fan girl, someone who lost their mind and forgot what was and wasn't appropriate in any situation.

I really hoped that cake on the counter was still good.

SASUKEANDSAKURAFOREVER

Three months later, we had mostly everything ready and we were about to start filming. We had the sunny smiling cast and the I-hate-this-job-but-I-need-the-money-but-I'm-still-throwing-you-dirty-looks crew. The script was already written, which surprised me because it had taken me six years to write my trilogy, which is the exact the reason why I nit picked at that script until it was perfect. The only major thing we had left to do was pick out the artists who were going to write and play the music for the movie.

At first, it was easy. We only need twelve songs for the soundtrack CD so we planned to pick 12 bands or singers, have them compose a song and then Chris and me would decide if we liked it or not. If we like it, it was going on the CD and maybe in the movie. If we didn't, well let just say we got a _few _nasty letters from fans.

Now we were working on finding the 12th band or singer. The first 11 were easy, because we got a wide range of sad songs, happy cheerful songs to hilarious songs. We needed another sad song and my mind couldn't help but wander back to those times when he was still here with me, playing those sweet sad melodies. Maybe it was because I had been lonely for so long or I still held onto the hope that he might still kinda of, maybe, might, is in love with me, but whatever influenced me it didn't excuse the fact that I rejected every band or signer, famous or not that tried out. Their songs, while sad and beautiful weren't like his. They were all missing a note, a note I had come to realize that could only come from the gold string guitar and large callous pale hands.

I fantasized in my head him just bursting through those double doors, demanding, because I can't imagine _**him**_ asking, that he play a song in my movie.

Then I would agree and he magically end up in front of me, cupping my face, and then he say I love you and lean closer and closer and closer until and now I was getting out of hand here.

Chris was always asking me why I didn't like this band or this person but all I told him was they didn't have the exact feeling or mood that I had imagined in the story

He would stare at me, as if he was searching my eyes to confirm this was the truth, but would give up a few seconds later, his hands raised in mock surrender, saying that I was the author and knew what I wanted.

Dating an emotionless bastard has it benefits.

SASUKEANDSAKURAFOREVER

Two weeks later, I got my wish. It was like any usual day. The cast was filming a particular hard scene and I was glaring at a blank piece of paper waiting for the words to weave around in my head so I could start writing and ended up utterly frustrated they weren't obeying my command. Then without any warning, the doors were thrown open with a loud _**WHAM**_.

Not even a second later, _**he **_came strutting in, his greasy long black haired yellow snaked eye manager hot on his heels.

At first, he looked around the room, as if searching for something or someone. Finally, he found what he was looking for, which apparently was me, I swore I saw a faint sparkle of amusement and happiness in his eyes. (I think he could tell I had writers block). With just one look and a stunning smile, he could make cold shivers run down my spine and then trail back up, knotting and fraying my nervous system, making them completely useless.

And he was doing this right now.

"Can I play a song in your movie?" At the sound of his voice, I melted to goo. His voice had matured, much like him, and the faint sounds of his smooth suave baritone voice that he had during his earlier teenage years had become much more noticeable and much sexier. From his shirt, I could see a faint outline of rock hard six-pack abs through his cotton black t-shirt. It had negative effects on my body and my fragile mental state, making my frayed nerves tingle from head to toe with excitement, and the empty space in my heart swelled with a false happiness.

When I didn't answer, I think he got worried because he took several long strides toward me until he towered over me, he had always been several feet taller than me, his sex appeal just oozing off him. And I started freaking out. My knees buckled, my heart started beating faster, the blood rushed to my feet making me light headed, my vision had a slight daze and through my veiled vision he seemed to glow, making it incredibly difficult to keep my fidgeting hands away from his face and just try to eat it right off.

After using what little self-control I had left, I tried to answer him but my mouth just hung open, no words coming out. So I closed my mouth and was about to turn around in my chair but when I saw his dazed expression on his handsome face, I felt like I needed to explain. So I opened my mouth once more and again no words came out so I closed it. I did this several times before I got so frustrated that when I opened my mouth a breathless "yes" came out.

When he heard my answer, I watched as his face twisted into a sexy smirk (damn him) before he turned and walked toward his manager. His manager was seething, I wouldn't be surprised if steam came out of his ears and his head exploded like a volcano, just like in those cartoons. Sasuke didn't look exactly happy to walk back to his manager but he didn't look exactly annoyed by it either. Instead, he just fixed his face so it had a blank expression but if you asked for my opinion, it looked like he wanted to be anywhere but near his snaked faced manager. Not one word was exchanged between the two, and after a quick staring contest, they turned to leave. Apparently, Sasuke wasn't happy with how ruined my mulled and frayed nerves were, oh no, he had to make them worse.

"See you tomorrow." He didn't turn around, not that I wanted him to, my poor nerves were already destroyed enough. Instead, he kept walking forward, leaving me with a perfect view of the sexiest back and ass in the world, one hand in his pocket, I could tell by his bent elbow, the other in the air waving a lazy good bye.

It was quiet in the room for a while after he was long gone. Until…

"Damn that man is fine." It looks like I wasn't the only one who noticed his ass.

SASUKEANDSAKURAFOREVER

Two weeks later of being in my sex god's presence and I was still confused whether I hated or loved him. Over the years, I learned several things. One is that there is a fine line between love and hate and the two were like light and dark, one couldn't live without the other. The other is that I wanted to punch him in the face as much as I wanted to kiss him.

We had been filming the movie for weeks and he managed to make me fall for him harder than I had in the past.

The only time we saw each other was on set. I was usually doing my work, which was writing my new novel because I finally got rid of this damn writers block. Most of the time, unless it was one of those days when I was frustrated and irritated, then I would make sure to occasionally listen to the actors, making sure the movie was going to my liking. Chris said I was so anal and such a perfectionist that he dubbed me The Picky Writer. The name was catchy and it eventually caught on until only a few select people actually called me by my first name.

Meanwhile, _**he**_ would be doing his work, figuring out which songs would go best with the movie, if any notes need tweaked or tuned, or changed, what was the rhythm and did it need any tweaking, what was the story of the song, what were the words going to be and so on. And it reminded me so much of the past, the way he tear apart his song to his liking, so for a couple moments I would allow myself to glance at him, memories of us flashing in front of my eyes.

With his god like powers, he somehow _**knew**_ that I was secretly watching him from the corner of my eyes, because every damn time he caught me, he would smirk at me with his sexy crooked smirk before quickly focusing on his calloused hands.

That night I had no idea what came over me but something snapped.

I guess it was because it was it was killing me to see him, to be close to him yet feel as if I was so far away. He was so tempting, so touchable but he had this sign around his neck that said no touching the display case. And these _**desires**_ built up and the longer I tried to hold them back, the harder they were too ignore.

We were in the studio, all alone since the two of us were both overachievers and workaholics. I stopped writing. My hand was throbbing with a dull ache and it felt as if it was swelled three times larger than normal. I didn't really feel like going home, so instead I stayed, watching and listening as he played different parts of the same song repeatedly, the sweet melody and his voice in harmony as the music swelled in the room enveloping us in a light, sad atmosphere.

Five minutes later, he looked up, a puzzled look on his gorgeous face and I just stared mindlessly in those onyx orbs, lost in sweet, sweet memories. I watched as his lips parted, it seemed he was about to say something, but he closed his mouth when he watched me stand out of my chair and walk towards him.

No words wasn't exchanged as I stopped in front of him, hands softly tracing his cheeks, eyes, lips, forehead, ears, eyes, jaw line, wherever my hands could touch. Touching him didn't satisfy me. I wanted to kiss him. I wanted to feel his soft lips, I wanted to taste the delicious taste that was him, I wanted explore the cavern of his mouth, I wanted to send shivers down his spine. So I did. I leaned down, slowly so he knew that it was coming, and let my lips touch his for a few seconds before pulling away.

I watched as he opened his eyes, dazed, happy, confused, and surprised all at the same time as he stared at me. But his look changed into some expression I didn't know and the next thing I knew I was watching him cupping my face, his thumb tracing sensual circles on the skin of my cheek. That's when it made sense.

He was asking me if I wanted this, if I really wanted to go through with this. I answered by leaning down, kissing him gently on the lips before pulling away.

I watched as his eyes lit up, happiness taking over the unidentified emotion, which I was positive was uncertainty. I helped him remove his guitar of his lap, running my hands through the midnight locks as he placed the guitar back in the black leather case.

We both straightened out to our full height, he was sitting and I was still standing, and I saw that his lips tugged down into a slight frown when I stopped running my hands through his hair. However, the frown disappeared quickly and instead his lips were pulled upward into a perfect beautiful smile.

For as long as I known him, I never saw him full out smile. So to see him smiling the most beautiful smile in the world, made my heart swell in pride and I leaned down to give him a five-second kiss. He was reluctant to kiss back at first but he standing up to his full height, all the while wrapping his toned arms around my waist, pulling me closer so he could kiss me so passionately, his emotions pouring out of him.

His hands slide lower, grabbing my ass and pulling me up so my legs wrapped around his nonexistent hips, his hands snaking their way back to my waist.

I remembered him walking somewhere but to tell you the truth I was too busy focusing on him to tell you where he was walking. At that moment, all I wanted to focus was on him. Not on work, not on my movie, not on past memories but the actually man in front of me who was showing me love by butterfly kisses, delicate nips and addicting touches. At that moment, all I needed was him.

SASUKEANDSAKURAFOREVER

I woke up the next morning, head pounding but enjoying the delicious warmth coming from beneath me. I snuggled closer into the pillow, noticing how it was rising and falling as if it was breathing. My thought process stopped. Pillows were inanimate objects, meaning they don't breathe.

Suspicious, I unwound my arms from the "pillow", placing my hands on the far sides of the bed that felt oddly course and rough, much like the texture of an old sofa. Ignoring that thought, I pushed my upper body up, making sure my arms were straight, so I could see my "pillow".

Below me was my ex-boyfriend, hair disheveled, eyes closed, lips parted, calm breaths fanning my face as I stared at him. Carefully I slide my legs so they were straddling his hips and I leaned back on my knees, making sure my weight wasn't leaning on him as I stared at my surroundings.

We were in my dressing room, on my blue sofa, both naked, clothes making a nice trail to the coach, shoes by the closed door, socks hanging of my desk, bodies tangled together, it only suggested one thing. We had sex. I had sex with my _**ex-boyfriend**_!

There was a reason they put ex in front of boyfriend. It meant that the guy _**wasn't **_your boyfriend anymore. He _**wasn't **_allowed to call you baby or any other nickname during the time that you _**did**_ go out. He _**wasn't **_allowed to buy you gifts. He _**wasn't **_allowed to touch you at all and certainty he wasn't allowed to _**sleep **_with you!

I started to hyperventilate, breathing seemed harder and harder and I had to force myself to do calm breathing techniques so he wouldn't hear me. With precise movements, I stood up, sitting on the top of the sofa, sliding my small feet underneath his lower back.

With all the strength I could muster, I rolled him off the sofa and he landed on the floor with a loud _**thump!**_ I was mildly surprised when I saw that there was a small dent in the floor from where his head landed.

He was wide-awake now, who wouldn't be, and he was glaring at me with his infamous death glare. I just smirked.

SASUKEANDSAKURAFOREVER

For the next three weeks, it was both frustrating and fun at the same time. We had been avoiding each other for the most part, and if we ever did encounter each other, a few witty comments were exchanged, though mine were so much wittier than his ever were, before we focused back on our work in a tense silence.

Chris was not at all happy with the new tension in the air and had often put us together to finish projects. Chris intervention between our problems only lead to vicious fights, which created a stressed out bastard, an utterly frustrated and furious me with an annoyed and exhausted director on the side.

Chris eventually stopped pairing us up when he noticed that his plan was not helping anything but instead making things worse, so he just left us alone to work through are feelings and thoughts or at least that's what I thought. Then it happened again.

It was one of those nights, when loneliness reared its ugly head and the writers block came back worse than before. We were both alone and my feelings were like a flame drenched in oil. All this attention wanting, loneliness, hurt and millions of other emotions bubbled inside of me and I felt like I was about to explode.

Despite what you may think, he was the one who made the first move. At first, he was the playing the guitar, plucking the gold guitar strings so they created a soft and happy sound. But for some reason he stopped, slipping off the guitar and placing it back in the case before he started walking towards me with dull footsteps.

I didn't turn around because I knew that if I did that all these emotions I was trying to push back into the darkest corner of my mind would escape and my self control would snap like a rubber band.

It didn't take him long to reach me. In fact, it felt that not even a second passed when his hands ghosted down my arms, teasing, taunting me as he leaned his head over my shoulder, glancing at the blank piece of paper that I was currently taping my pen against before turning to look at my shadowed face.

"Well you got a lot of work done." I glared at him through the corner of my eyes before I fixated my gaze back onto the blank piece of paper, tapping my pen, trying to ignore his authority demanding presences.

However, he wasn't giving up. He continued his antics, making thousands of pleasurable shivers race down my numb back as one of his hands traced my shoulder blades across my t-shirt while the other spun my short pink hair round and round and round in an endless circle.

I knew by this time that I wasn't able to ignore him and that the chances of me actually getting to work done were much smaller than the chances of me actually being able to ignore him. Therefore, I did the only logical thing I could think of. I turned around.

Now some of you are probably thinking I knew she was going to do that, while others are maybe shaking their heads and calling me an idiot. But you tell me a way to ignore a six-foot dark haired all lean muscle sex god that may or may not be in love with you. You see my point.

However, I didn't think that he was expecting me to turn around, or at least not this quickly, but if he was surprised I didn't know because he was quick to cover his expression and his hands that were in my hair were now cupping my face. He didn't even give me time to blink as he started to lean down, expecting me to give him full access to pull me into a deep sensual kiss but I didn't give him the chance.

The problem? Well the kiss was the problem. Now I know I started complaining about how hard it was ignoring this _**sex god**_ and blah blah blah. But it didn't make sense to me. Why would someone like _**him **_love someone like _**me**_?

I mean when we were in high school I could understand. We were both lonely teenagers, his family cruel and mine neglecting, and we found comfort in each other. But now?

Now he is a famous singer and musician that can have any girl he wants at his fingertips and he chose _**me**_! Me! Do you see the problem now?

"Why me?" I could tell that he was hurt when I rejected him but I pushed down the feelings of guilt and continued on questioning him.

"I mean you can have any girl you want in this world and you chose me. Are… are you pitying me? You think I still love you right! So now, you feel sorry for even being in a relationship with me and you're trying to make up for it by being my pity boyfriend." He didn't say a word. Just looked at me in mild surprise, his gaze unwavering as he searched my eyes for truth and lies.

"So how long are you staying now? 3 months? 5 months? Do I dare say it? A half a year?" I was now yelling. His face changed from surprise to a blank page and I could feel the fear knotting in my stomach. He was going to leave again. He was going to quit talking to me, ignore me and all I would be left with was the pain of new emotions of guilt and loneliness.

However, something odd happened. I thought he was going to get mad at me, start screaming at me as I had done before but instead he stayed quiet, and a look of amusement spreading on his face. Then he laughed! Yes, you read it right, he laughed, chuckled, whatever the hell you want to call it.

I was about to demand him to tell me what was so funny but he silenced me by placing a finger on my lips.

"You know for a moment I was worried. I thought of the same exact thing. I thought maybe that you were mad at me for leaving you alone and that you were playing me like this so you could get revenge on me. But it's nice to know that you feel the same way." Then he kissed me and it doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out what happened after that.

SASUKEANDSAKURAFOREVER

For a second time, I found both of us naked, me lying on top of him, legs tangled, arm wrapped loosely around my waist, him lightly snoring, the rough blue fabric of the couch prickling my skin.

Let's just say the dent got bigger.

From the top of the couch I heard him groan, before he gradually raised his head out of the nice sized hole in my trailer floor, his fingertips gingerly massaged the damaged his scalp.

"Are you going to do that every time we have sex?" The annoyance in his voice was obvious but I was more worried about covering my naked chest with my small skinny arms.

Sasuke raised an eyebrow over the action. "It's not like I haven't seen you naked before. Where do you think the first dent came from?"

The dent got bigger.

SASUKEANDSAKURAFOREVER

It was 4 months before we had sex again.

It wasn't like we were avoiding each other. In fact, it was the exact opposite. We saw each other more through out the day, we went to the same café for our lunch break, we talked, we laughed, we were becoming more and more like a real couple each day.

And often people would come up to us and comment on how cute we looked together. Sometimes we were able to get a few quick conversations before we parted ways. Once we got in a friendly argument with a kind middle-aged woman who had been married for two decades and had two grown children and by the end of the conversation, the two of us were practically rolling on the floor while Sasuke was laughing as loudly as he could for an emotionless bastard. One time TenTen saw us laughing at a table in the window while she was on her way to the nearby Starbucks.

I would have loved to known her thought process because when she saw us she wore a blank expression on her face, her amber eyes darkened in suspicion. Like I knew she would, she entered the café, body rigid, her suspicious gaze filled with hate as she glared unwaveringly at Sasuke.

Sasuke stared back at her coolly for a few seconds before he turned toward me, leaning over the table as he whispered in my ear, "What the hell did I do to make her hate me?" I just giggled.

I was about to explain to the now repositioned Sasuke that was my friend in high school when TenTen interrupted me by standing in front of our table.

"Hi." Was all she said, though I knew in all honesty that her tone suggested she would rather say go to hell bastard.

"Off to Starbucks?" It seemed TenTen was focused on burning Sasuke to a crisp because when I intervened with my question she looked surprised to see me there, sitting right across from the clearly uncomfortable Sasuke. However, the look of surprise disappeared into a warm smile and I smiled back.

"Yeah, I was off to get my frappuccino. I was going to ask if you wanted one," her eyes flickered down to my coffee and Sasuke's before meeting my eyes again. "But it seemed like you don't need one."

It was awkward, having TenTen stand in front of us similar to a mother who caught her daughter sneaking out to meet her boyfriend. So to make it less awkward I asked TenTen to grab a seat and come join us.

I knew by Sasuke's glare that he didn't want her ten feet near him but I convinced myself that if he really wanted back in my life he was going have to meet my friends in the near future. Why not meet them earlier?

"Sasuke, this is my friend TenTen." I introduced her. I knew I was very capable of introducing Sasuke to her but I wanted to see her reaction when he introduced himself.

Sasuke looked at me with pleading eyes but I ignored his gaze, shrugging my shoulders. He finally got the message that I wasn't going to help him, so he held out his hand, taking a sharp intake of air that no one noticed but me.

"I'm Sasuke…" But he never got the chance to finish his sentence because TenTen cut him off by raising her hand, palm facing his face, signaling for him to stop talking.

"I know who you are." TenTen retorted her voice steady and cold. I watched as Sasuke let out a sigh of relief. "You're the man who broke Sakura's heart." She smirked, he frowned.

The rest of the encounter was uneventful. The two got along better than I would have thought and I think Sasuke was enjoying a woman who actually would reply with witty sex related remarks back at him without being the least bit embarrassed or flustered.

When the hand was clicking closer to the end of our lunch breaks, we all paid our fair share and left, TenTen going one way and us the other and she eyed Sasuke suspiciously the whole way she walked down the street, before she lost sight of him when she turned the corner. After she was out of sight, Sasuke finally fully exhaled.

"Geez, how do you make such weird friends?"

The rest of my days went smoothly, the two of us getting closer and closer but then that night reared its ugly head.

And it went a little something like this. Near the end of movie, leads to a party, this leads to me drinking too much champagne and red wine. And because I am an overachiever and workaholic, along with him, who also got drunk from the party, causes us to stay late where that leads us to kissing which leads to relocating on the couch in my trailer, which leads to the final destination: sex.

Alcohol is the biggest evil in this world. I know I shouldn't blame one item for the problems of the world but this is not an excuse, just a theory. Most of the problems in this world are directly or indirectly caused by someone one drinking way too much alcohol or overdosing in drugs. Seriously. So if someone managed to get rid of those two sin spreading temptations then I think the world would be a much safer place.

When I woke up this time, I didn't throw him off the coach, further denting my poor floor because of two reasons.

One, I had a nasty hangover and the slightest movement of my head made my vision blur and my head spin and I got a nasty pit sickening feeling like I had to puke whatever I ate at that evil, evil, evil party, preferably on him.

Second, his arms were so tight around my waist to the point my waist had become numb and most likely sprouting nasty black and blue bruises.

"Aren't you going to throw me off?" I couldn't see his face but I could _**hear**_ that tone in his voice and I knew he was smirking. That bastard damn well knew that I couldn't throw him off because I would end up getting hurt and not to mention the proactive position we end up in.

"Too much work." I replied as I nuzzled my nose into his shoulder and took a big gulp of air, involuntarily sucking in his scent. His scent was so strong, so soothing that it had lessened the sickening feeling in my stomach.

Bastards have to be good for something.

Under my fingertips, I felt as his shoulders tensed, before relaxing, his triumphant smirk softened to a small crooked smile as he chuckled, his chest rumbling underneath my stomach.

A few minutes, more inhales of his intoxicating scent and my head stopped spinning, the gut wrenching feeling slowly fading and all I was left was an antsy felling to get up and stretch out my muscles.

After reassuring him that I wasn't going to throw him to the floor, I managed to stand my bare body up on my shaky legs.

In my trailer, I was smart to tell them to put a small closet in there. The original reason was because I knew my workaholic habits were never going to disappear and the thought of wearing the same clothes twice was not that appealing. However, when the new development of us having sex so often, I just had a feeling one of these days someone was going to come in early and find us in my trailer or walking out of my trailer wearing the same clothes as we did the night before.

That was just my luck.

So, being the rather intelligent person I am, I also put clothes in there for him too.

Aren't I smart?

When my legs didn't fell like jello, I wobbled my way to the closet, lightly leaning on the wardrobe as I picked out clothes for the both of us. Unsteadily I walked over to him, who was now sitting on the couch staring at me with worried eyes. I ignored the look as I threw his clothes to him and we both got dressed.

After we were both dressed and ready to go, we walked onto the set knowing fully well that no one was going to come to the set by 7:30. We checked our work, cleaned up the place, and while he tuned his guitar, I checked the calendar. It was a Saturday and I remembered that we weren't filming this Saturday because the director had made this is his vacation day. I also noticed that I had a doctor's appointment and I smirked, a great idea developing in my mind.

Sasuke absolutely hated going to the doctors. I don't know if it was because of the flirting nurses and the overly happy doctors who shouldn't have been that cheerful or because several branches of his family worked or owned several hospitals in the area but all I knew was that he hated hospitals and refused to go to them.

So when he caught sight of the professional plain building, I burst out into hysterical laughter at the look of shock. However, I firmly stood my ground and told I brought him here to see if he had any brain damage from denting my floor because I didn't want to delay my movie any further.

His reaction? He just snorted and walked in the direction to the hospital doors as I followed silently behind him.

If you asked me now if I regretted taking him to the doctors, I would say yes in a heartbeat. After finally convincing the receptionist to squeeze his appointment with me (thank god he was good looking) and that I was going to pay for the both of us, we had to wait an hour before the nurse finally called both our names. My check up didn't take long, the doctor checked my height and weight, I made sure Sasuke was out of the room when they did that, and he asked me some questions. Sasuke's scan didn't end up in a disaster as I thought it would but it just took forever. Thankfully, he didn't have a concussion but the doctor had to get nosy and ask how he got the bruise on his head.

He answered "Rough sex."

I answered, "He's a clumsy idiot."

I think the doctor believed him rather than me.

_**Damn**_.

SASUKEANDSAKURAFOREVER

5 months later, the movie finished and already out in theaters.

During those 5 months, we had got into the habit of having sex every two weeks. Thank god, he wore a condom and I was taking birth control pills or I would have gotten pregnant. Okay now back to the movie.

The movie made the number one spot in the top box office with $45 million on the first day.

I still believe that people went to the movie only to hear him play his wonderful pure music. (The only thing pure about him)

After the movie, we never contacted each other again; actually, the truth was we never saw each other after the premiere. He seemed to have gotten busier after the success of my movie; more and more people were requesting him to play music in their movies, some even asking him to be a supporting actor. I also heard rumors that he was going to leave his manager, which I found out, were true because he started texting me.

Texting was the newest invention since the World Wide Web and the internet. It allowed a person to type out what they wanted to say to any number they wanted or multiple numbers on their cell phone. It had become quite popular with teenagers but I really didn't like my cell phone that much. I never called anybody expect TenTen and her friend Hinata, who was a really nice quiet girl who was striving to be a fashion designer.

From there we occasionally called each other, and if he was busy and couldn't talk, he would text me. Phone companies were being stingy and a text cost two dollars so by the time we sent ten messages, we were already charged twenty dollars on our bill. Despite all the occasional phone calls and rare texts, he never took the effort to see me in person. That all changed, 6 months later on my 29th birthday. (He was 33 if you must know)

It was a Saturday and it was one of those boring, frustrating days. I was at home, wearing short shorts and a tank top, sweating bullets and dying of heat exhaustion even though I already took _**three **_cold showers. And it didn't help matters that my stupid air conditioner had to go and break down on me and all the nearest technicians were all busy until the end of the month, if not longer.

I would have gone out to run some errands but I already bought groceries, already written most of my rough draft for my new story, paid most of my bills (it was taking those producers a _long _time to get my money to me). In addition, I flat out refused to watch a stupid movie at the movie theaters because I was sweating to death. I was hopeful that either TenTen or Hinata could go out shopping with me but TenTen was still at work and Hinata was busy sewing a dress for a well know designer and I didn't want to be inconsiderate and disturb her.

So while sitting on my old couch, a fan in front of my face, watching my fuzzy television screen all the while cursing my luck, the doorbell rang. Mumbling and grunting, I picked up my lazy self, walked to the door, slamming it open with a loud "what".

And right there, in my door way was my ex-boyfriend (still have yet to figure out what I am to him) in a "disguise".

When I say disguise don't think over the top, eye catching, whispering pointing kind where a little kid yells, "Mommy, look there is a man from the circus." He was just wearing black torn jeans, black converses, a band t-shirt (ironically his band) and a long black wig pulled into a ponytail.

"What are you wearing?" I asked with one eyebrow raised while trying to keep from bursting out laughing but my lips kept twitching up.

"A disguise." He answered casually, stuffing his hands in his pocket, thinking that he was acting all sexy but with the rebellious teen outfit and his bored facial expression, it only succeeded in making me laugh harder.

"I noticed." I answered, warily scrutinizing him again to make sure I wasn't hallucinating. "But why did you dress like a damn rebellious teen? You do know your own age, right?"

He just shrugged, a look of indifference on his face.

Bastard.

"Get changed." He commanded. I rolled my eyes. I should have known that the chances of him telling me politely on why he was here like a normal person where zero but did he have to be so rude?

"No." I stated defiantly, crossing my arms over my chest. He just raised his eyebrow, pulling off a look that surely would have been hilarious on any other man.

"And why not?" It was the first thing I heard him say that sounded remotely like a question and I felt the strong urge to yell congratulations in his face over his "achievement".

"Because the only thing that I own that looks remotely punk is that black leather tube top," I watched as his mouth twitched into a perverted smirk, "and my black skinny jeans which I buried in a pile of clothes at the bottom of my closet that I vowed never ever to wear again."

"That's perfect." I heard him say, as if he ignored the rest of my speech, "and with you're hair color, well you get the point." I watched as his smirk inched higher on his face.

"And maybe we can use that tube top for why you originally bought it." It wasn't a suggestion; it was a sex related comment that was enhanced by the suggestive wiggling of his eyebrows.

I rolled my eyes and let out a long frustrated sigh before I closed the door and going deeper inside my house with the intent of searching for the said clothes, I knew was surely going to kill me if I wore them in this weather.

Despite what anyone may think, I genuinely had a good time. We first went to see a horror movie in a run down, shabby, old, small but air-conditioned movie theater. One of the things that I seriously disliked about myself is I am literally scared about everything. Over the years, I had settled my nerves but when it came to horror movies, forget it. And just my luck this movie was one of the most, gust spilling, knife throwing, blood spewing, evil laughing, loudest movie I have ever seen in my entire life. At one point, it got so bad that I literally jumped into Sasuke's lap. But did he comfort me, oh no! No instead, he wrapped his arm protectively around my waist and laughed. I remember him saying one of those perverted sex related jokes but at that moment, I was too scared to pay attention.

When I finally remembered what he said, I won't repeat it, I didn't take any time to curl up my fist and attempt to punch him in the face but from the corner of my eye I saw crimson red spray the large movie screen and I made the mistake of turning around.

There on the screen and there was a man, an ugly grim faced man with a criminal smirk twisting his leather skinned face. He was holding a bloody knife, his mouth parted so a grotesque laugh escaped from it. On the ground was a beautiful blond, her mouth hanging open in a silent scream, her own blood seeping slowly out from a large wound, staining her white gown, an angel killed by a devil.

It didn't take me long to decided perverted jokes were so much safer than horror movies.

For the rest of the date we took a casual walk around the park, where a few teenage boys tried to hit on me but quickly backed off when they saw Sasuke keeping a protective arm wrapped around my waist.

I had to chalk this one on my list on Why I Love Being a Woman.

But I should have known that the peaceful happiness wouldn't last long, and as wonderful as the happiness was, it would quickly change back into an anguish pain I had come to known. Then that would achingly change back to the chilling numbness I had come to fear until I had finally succeeded in losing me, the me I used to know and becoming a lifeless empty shell that was no better from being dead. Nevertheless, I believed that maybe this time he was going to stay and so I left myself unguarded. I didn't know how very wrong I was.

SASUKEANDSAKURAFOREVER

A year had passed and it was much like our first official date, it was peaceful, happy and natural. Ironically, the day that ruined us was the day that brought us together, my birthday.

As you may have assumed from my personality I am not a big wild crazy party person and neither is he. Our ideal birthday party was a small crowd of family friends, quiet interesting conversations floating and mingling in the room, with bottle of good food and wine somewhere on a table. But our plans had major changes. Sasuke's family hated him, even with his success over the years, and mine had either died or effused to talk to me. He had a couple childhood friends but he was busy when he called him. My high school friends, TenTen and Hinata, were busy and they had made future plans for us to go on a shopping spree using Sasuke's credit card.

Therefore, our plans for my birthday changed to just the two of us, enjoying the day together. First, we went to the beach, where I played in the water while Sasuke watched me, laughing as I clumsily slipped on the ocean floor.

When I was out of breath and as happy as could be, I sat down next to him, where he had lunch and we talked for hours about anything and everything. The time passed quickly, and before we realized it, it soon turned dark and the beach was empty. I packed up to leave and stood up but was pulled down into Sasuke's lap, the stuff I took the time to pack up nicely spewed across the floor covered in yellow sand. I was about to yell at him but he silently pointed in front of him and me. Being the curious creature I am, I looked at what he was pointing at what I saw made my breath catch in my thorat.

The sun was enormous, the size of maybe two earths, the dark warm colors of orange, red, and yellow bleeding down the sky like paint on a canvas, causing it to resemble a large wet gold coin being dropped into a coin box. The ocean went from a sparkling bright blue to a silky navy, the waves gentle going back and forward, uttering a soft beautiful song.

I was awe struck, and together we watched as the sun dipped behind the ocean, like a coin being dropped into a coin box.

When the sun had finally set and the night sky had turned into velvet midnight silk, the stars like glitter in the fabric. It took us no time to pack up the sprawled items and soon enough we were in the car, driving on the abandoned road.

At first I thought I knew where we were going. Everything looked familiar and I recognized the names of the street names but then we took an unfamiliar right turn and suddenly everything changed.

The unruly forest changed to majestic flawless trees and in between the gaps, I could see the driveway lights of expensive gorgeous houses.

"Where are you taking me?" I asked but Sasuke just turned his head and smiled at me before turning his attention back to the street. Later, I would learn that our surroundings would gradually change from the neat rural area to the city but we didn't stop there. We went further and further into the city, where it become loud, noisy, crowded and bright and we continued to drive our way through the crowd until we were in the parking lot of my favorite shopping store ever, Saks Fifth Avenue.

After buying me a dress I couldn't possibly afford and him a suit, we went to a gorgeous Italian restaurant where I learned that Sasuke made reservations later in the day.

When we ate as much as we both possibly could, not including the delicious dessert they had described in the neat typed writing, we left with me upset that I hadn't been able to appreciate all possible meals the beautiful restaurant had to offer. For the first time in the night, he took me somewhere I expected (home) but the feeling didn't last long because he surprised me again.

As politely as he could for someone of his nature, he asked if he could come into the house. I automatically said yes because for the past year or so he had been practically living in my apartment. After he entered the house and I made sure he was sitting comfortably on the couch, which wasn't to hard, before I went to change out of the beautiful dress and into a pair old comfy pjs.

When I walked back into the living room, Sasuke was out of his tuxedo jacket, opening a carton of cookie dough ice cream with two spoons on the table. When the lid was safely under the oh so tempting carton of ice cream, he looked up at me and grinned.

I should have told him I loved him.

We spent the rest of the time flipping the channels, while slowly indulging in the sweet, sweet, sweet ice cream until we reached a channel I had come to love and hate over the years. LMN.

If I continued to dating Sasuke, I wouldn't have paid attention to mushy sappy channels like that but when he left, it was a different story. I was bored, heartbroken and had been crying over the same guy for years, so when I saw one of their sappy sad movies, I just watched it and I discovered I felt better about watching stories about forbidden loves and poorly acted murders. And if anything, it showed me that things could defiantly be worse than they were now.

So when we passed the LMN channel, which had a movie I really, really wanted to see, I tried to make him watch it. But as luck would have it, the man was as stubborn as a mule and he wouldn't relinquish his hold on the remote, no matter what scandalous position I placed myself in.

After showing of my breasts and thighs as best as I could in my ratty pajamas, I finally gave up. I was getting nowhere and I could tell by his smirk that while he enjoyed the view but it wasn't going to work. Instead, I decided that it would be more productive to just curl up on the coach and glare daggers at him until he got so annoyed at me trying to burn holes in his head that he would practically _throw _the remote at me.

It would have been a perfect plan if the man didn't have the concentration of a steel wall.

However, I refused to give up on my last resort, so I continued to glare at him, but he remained unfazed as he flipped through the channels. The sounds of thousands of clicks and poor acting filled the room and it was starting to break my concentration when I heard a stupid joke spoken by a host. When I realized that I wasn't going anywhere I officially gave up. I grabbed a magazine from the coffee table and started flipping through it, scanning for any articles with any mention of him when unexpectedly I heard a seductive voice call out Sasuke's name.

It seemed to peak his interest too because his thumb went still against the abused channel button.

From the corner, my eye I glanced at the dusty old box and what I saw didn't exactly help my mood. On the screen, I watched as a familiar skinny blond model talked animatedly, her high-pitched voice grated my frayed, destroyed, emotionally abused nerves.

It was the stupid E! Channel.

I was about to yell him to change the channel, because shows like that all based on exaggerated lies and rumors, until I forced myself to actually listen to what the annoying skinny witch had to say.

"…manager has now announced that Sasuke Uchiha is going to get married to the beautiful Ino Yamanaka. For years, the question was who would be the woman to steal the guitarist heart and I think we figured out. Now the new question is why would…"

I didn't hear the rest because Sasuke harshly pressed the power button, the screen settling to a midnight black, reflecting the living room like a mirror. Sasuke cursed as he stood up, muttering something about 'stupid greedy bastards who didn't know how to stay out of people's business'. He straightened his back so that it was perfectly straight, as if someone had latched a manikin stand on his back. He didn't turn back to look at me. He just continued to seethe and mutter, pulling out of his phone and pounding on the buttons before putting it to his ear.

"Where the hell are you going?" I yelled. I could hear the sound of my blood rushing to my head and a knot of fear settled in the deepest pit of my stomach as I watched him walk closer and closer to the door, bitter memories of him leaving flashed before my eyes.

If he heard me he didn't show it. I began to panic. No. No. No. No. This couldn't be happening again. I just got him back and now he was leaving again!

I felt as the hot tears fell down my cheeks. I didn't want to cry again! I didn't want the numbing loneliness! I didn't want to wait for him just to know that he was gone for good this time!

"At least this time when you leave have the damn honor to explain!" I was panting; hot salty tears of frustration ran down my cheeks as I stood up.

I watched as he stopped at the door, his grip white from the pressure, his shoulders stiff. He stayed there for a second, didn't even turn his head to look at me as he ran out of the door.

I glared at the screen from my position, showing the beautiful blond haired blue-eyed singer as she waved goodbye to a large audience at one of her recent runways.

There was only one thought in my head.

_**What**__** the hell**_**? **

I never realized it before but my bloody boyfriend, sorry he wasn't my boyfriend anymore he was _**hers**_, was a coward.

_**A bloody damn coward. **_

SASUKEANDSAKURAFOREVER

It's been six months. Yes, I said six months since my birthday and I was severely getting pissed.

Right now, I was fuming, muttering things like 'stupid, cheating, lying bastard' while stuffing my face with cookie dough ice cream, glaring at the TV because no one seemed like they wanted to shut their mouths and talk about something else beside the bastard's stupid wedding with the blond bitch.

What can I say? I was mad.

Let me explain. For the last couple of months, I have been fuming, eating ice cream, working out like crazy, and all the while guilty following the rumors closely with few rare moments of peace that I spent deciding the best way to kill him.

It was like any other day. I was sitting on my couch, the TV was on but I wasn't really paying attention to it. Instead, I was trying to work out my feelings for Sasuke but ended up weighing in my head which one would be less damaging to my mental health, bang my head on a wall or stuff my face with ice cream. So when I heard my doorbell ring I grudgingly got up, grumbling as I put the ice cream carton down and headed toward the door.

Without glancing into the peephole, I threw the door open, hands on my hips, scowl on my face and daggers into my eyes.

He was going to pay.

"Hello stranger." I spat out venomously.

He was standing there, hands deep in his pockets, head hung low. He was nervous. For the first time the prideful, arrogant Sasuke Uchiha was nervous. I didn't know whether to laugh or throw more salt in the wound by acting as if I forgiven him, talk a little bit, flirt with him before I leaned closer and closer, letting him think that I was going to kiss him and then _**slam**_ the door shut in his face.

Before I had time to put either of my plans to work, he looked at me, his piercing onyx orbs shaking up what I thought to be unwavering anger and I almost regretted being mad at him. Almost.

I watched him with indifferent eyes as he scrutinized my attire before raising his head and leaning slightly towards the left so he could see the inside of the house, trying so very hard to hide the fact that I was very very nervous.

I continued to watch, frozen, as his eyes wandered around the room, lingering on the open carton of ice cream before he turned his gaze to look me straight in the eyes, the guilt and sadness emitting from him was almost palpable that I almost sympathized with him. Then I remembered the blond haired slut that the press wouldn't shut up about and all the money they claimed she was worth and suddenly my vanishing anger suddenly reappeared again.

"I see you're not happy." He stated obviously, shifting uncomfortably from my intense glare.

"What was your first clue?" I asked rudely, crossing my arms as I glared down at him, enjoying the view of him squirming. He didn't say anything for a minute, just kept his mouth shut as he contemplated in his mind what to say next.

"Look I know how it seems," He began again and I rolled my eyes. Yeah of course, he knew. He knew everything. He knew about the pain and loneliness I felt when he left. He knew how I mad I got when he left unexpectedly from one of our dates because someone called him and whatever it was absolutely necessary he checked on every emergency he had. He knew exactly how jealous I was when I noticed that he talked longer to his female co-workers longer than he ever talked to me. He knew that all I really wanted was just to be held, to know that I was safe, that someone loved me in this cold lonely world.

"But let me explain."

I balled my hands into fist under my crossed arms as I leaned against the door, feinting a look of interest when really I wanted to gag at the over used, cliché words.

"With all due respect explain." I encouraged with a still mad but interested tone. I watched carefully as he looked down at the floor, his heels shifting in the dirt in small circles as he tried to hide his nervousness. So he knew that I was bluffing.

"It's my manager." He stated bluntly, offering no other further details. I raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah just blame this _**all**_ on the manager." He winced at my tone. I just smirked. Oh, how fun it was to watch him squirm.

"He was getting…" He paused, as if looking for the right word, before he continued. "Annoyed by the press and my lack of response to other women besides you, so he struck a deal with Ino's parents."

"So your telling me," I jabbed him in the chest for good measurement. "That is an _**arranged**_ marriage. You have to be _**freaking**_ kidding me! Those died out _**centuries**_ ago."

"I know as unbelievable as it may seem, it's the truth" He was avoiding my harsh gaze, subconsciously running his calloused pale hands through his midnight hair that looked blue in the bright sunlight.

"So you're telling me that you're hurting me again just because you don't have the balls to stand up to your manager."

"You don't understand-" He spoke frustrated before I interrupted him for the second time.

"You know what I don't understand." I jabbed his chest sharply again and narrowed my green orbs for added effect. "But what I do now is every time your life gets frustrating or irritating or it reaches a point you can't stand it, you come running to me. When I was 14, you were mad that no one was taking you seriously so you vented to me. And I just sat there and listened like the good little girl I was. When we were filming the movie, in the morning after we had sex, you complained about how annoyed you were on how your song wasn't going the way you wanted and not once did I ever complain about my work problems."

"You were working late all those nights, drunk and the one who practically _**begged **_me to have sex with you. You brought it upon yourself." He yelled back, determined not to have his large ego shot down by little old me. But as my eyes narrowed lower and my hands were placed on hips, he quickly looked down at the ground as if my gaze would burn him to a sizzling pile of ash right then and there.

"I don't know where you were but I worked late every night! And if I remember correctly, I was only drunk once. You, on the other hand, was the one was drinking at least two packs a night!" His head hung lower at her accusations, which he knew, were true. "And now you came running back to me because your manager is making you get married and you don't have the balls to stand up to him." I exhaled the breath I been holding the whole time, glad that I was breathing again.

"I'm sick of being the rebound girl when reality hits you. _**Never **_did you ask me if I was hurt, if I was feeling lost and lonely. You never asked how I was feeling. You never looked at me long enough to see I was in pain because you were to busy frolicking around with those famous skinny sluts. You don't even realize how long I waited for you to come back to this old apartment, thinking that we would be able to salvage our love." He gazed up at her, the guilt and sadness brightening his eyes that shook my resolve like a steel wall in an earthquake.

"12 long years I wasted loving you and now you just want me to ignore all that pain and loneliness because you're in a tight spot." When I got no response, I felt as the anger bubble in my blood, pulsing through my veins like adrenaline. "Just leave."

"Look, I know that-" But I cut him off again.

"YOU KNOW! You know nothing! You're a blind fool, shielding your eyes from the truth. And you're saying _**you**_ know my pain. You don't' even know what pain is! Go."

He was about to open his mouth again, probably to say something equally stupid but I never gave him the chance.

"I SAID GO!" He looked taken back, as if surprised I would yell at him to leave but the look didn't stay long. As quick as it came, it faded to his usual stoic emotionless face. With one last glance, he finally complied with my request and he turned around and left, never once looking back. Not that I expected him to any way. He was just that kind of person. The one who kept pushing forward until his past was blended, too dark and filled with too many holes that it pointless to look behind his shoulder.

I waited until he was out of sight before I gently closed the door, leaning my forehead against the cool wood.

"The world doesn't revolve around you." And for the rest of the night, I cried.

SASUKEANDSAKURAFOREVER

A month passed by and the wedding was coming to the final count down.

From interviews, as you all know I was addicted to keeping progress of him by interviews and magazines (I even made sure he never found my bookcase of magazines when we were dating), I noticed that Ino didn't seem excited about the looming nearness of the wedding like I thought she would be. I mean she smiled and laughed and looked pleasant whenever anyone spoke about the said event but her eyes told a different story, like she was sad about getting married.

In fact, I swore I saw a glimmer of disappointment every time they mentioned Sasuke's name but then she quickly laughed and changed to a different subject.

Sasuke on the other hand didn't bother trying to hold his distaste about the wedding. Every time they mentioned the wedding in interviews, his eyes would shine darkly with disgust as they narrowed while the corner of his mouth twitched downward in an unpleasant frown. At first it surprised me to see him showing that much emotion but the shock wore down. In all honesty, when the man didn't have a blank look on his face, it was replaced by a scowl instead.

Ino, to my surprise, had sent me an invitation to the wedding. I could tell because the envelope had beautiful cursive typed words that made it to elegant to be a meek birthday card. It took me a while before I actually opened the letter, glaring at it for an hour before I finally concluded that it would _**not **_exploded on me and that this wasn't a terrorist playing a trick on me.

The card was simple in design, cream colored with a blue border and a silver rose painted in the corner. In silver near writing, it said 'You are invited to the wedding of Sasuke Uchiha and Ino Yamanaka. Please R.S.V.P'.

After telling my friend, TenTen, and her shy quiet lavender eyed friend, Hinata, they had both ganged up on me and managed to convince me to go to this stupid wedding, that in some machinist way it was going to be healthy for me.

I was thinking about ignoring the two for a two weeks, to show them that I would not be going to the wedding after all and that my way was the best way but I feared that it was a stupid idea. I especially knew very well that an angry TenTen and a broken door would not be good for my emotionally unstable mind and stress level.

Not good at all.

Hinata was nice enough to sew me the most beautiful dress in the world that not only made me look damn sexy and showed off my beautiful curves but she made sure it wouldn't make me totally stand out when I went to the wedding.

She was a genius, pure genius.

However, she was related to Neji Hyuga, who was a genius professor at the nearby university who happened to be dating TenTen.

One the day of the wedding, I took a shower, fixed my hair to my liking before I got dressed into my gorgeous dress. After I applied a layer of light make up and clear lip-gloss, I strutted out of house with confidence, smiling at the many cat whistles and envious glares.

It had taken about an hour, if not more to find the place where the wedding was being held. Mapquest failed to give good directions and my GPS decided to malfunction too. And it didn't help matters when the wedding was way out there in Timbuktu. Put all those problems together and it led to frustrated and irritated me who spent two of the longest hours of her life wandering around one of the biggest known cities in the world.

So you can only imagine when I safely parked in the parking lot, how happy I was to see the Japanese shrine. Before shutting off the car, I quickly glanced at the time on the radio, watching as the numbers faded instantly as the rumbling purr of the car died. I was early by at least 30 minutes.

The place was exactly how I imagined it. Ino's mother was ethnically Japanese and had said in an interview that she wanted her daughter to have a Japanese wedding that she dreamed about since she was a little girl. I found it very sad that her mother was planning her wedding, arguably the biggest event in her life and instead of her mother planning her wedding, she was planning hers.

In fact, I almost felt sorry for the blond. I thought about how I wouldn't have wanted my mother to butt into my life and plan my wedding but then I remembered that my mother ignored me for most of my life, so I didn't have the slightest clue what a caring mother was like.

But the moment I started thinking about my mother, I stopped all my thoughts. It reminded me too much of my pathetic self and my torn broken heart and any feelings of sympathy I had for the blond model disappeared. I would not give any sympathy to that bitch.

The shrine looked like the same as any other Japanese shrine. (I only know this because I had to a research project about Japan) It was higher up, its significant red arch a colorful entrance. Winding up the steep hill was long stone stairs dusted and covered by a white carpet. Down the road was another shrine, old, rundown and abandon. For the most of the year, Ino's parents spent a lot of money on the renovations so they could use it as the reception location and changing rooms.

I let out a soft sigh as I prepared my nerves for the bloody battle that was sure to come. When I got here, I was hot, tired and hungry so the first empty space I found I took it. Now I wished I had looked at where I parked. I was currently parked in between a Ferrari and a Mercedes. If I didn't feel out of place when I got here, this didn't help matters.

I got out of my car and headed towards the long winding stairs when I was grabbed by the arm by a beautiful stone face woman, a headset in one ear, clipboard in her hand, manicured nails digging into my bicep.

She must have been one of the million wedding planners hired by Ino's mother.

"Miss Yamanaka would like to see you." I stared at the woman's in disbelief, removing her hand from my arm. She had to have seen the expression on her face, but I couldn't tell because she was arguing with someone about the flower placement for the tables at the reception.

"Do you know Miss Yamanka personally, ma'am?" I could tell from her narrowed eyes and pursed lips that this woman didn't like me. She practically spat out the word ma'am as if it was a bad taste in her mouth. And I was starting to get annoyed by the dirty glances at my hair. So what if it was pink? Get over it!

"No." I answered back as venomously as I could. It seemed like the woman didn't _like_ my tone of voice because she narrowed her cold brown eyes into daggers.

If the woman wanted to say something particularly spiteful, I didn't know because she kept her mouth clamped shut as she turned on her nail of a heel as guided me to the reception hall, furiously slamming the poor shoes into the concrete as if she it severely pained her to be in my presence.

After leading me past the grounds of the two shrines, we entered the second, walking down millions of rooms and hallways before we finally made it to Ino's dressing room. With one last hate-filled gaze, the woman sauntered out of the hallway and back into the winding maze of a shrine, the furious clicking died down to a faint _clack clack clack_.

I couldn't believe I was doing this. I was standing outside the door of my ex-boyfriends fiancé dressing room still debating if it was too late to turn back and try to find my way through the shrine. I opened up my clutch and checked my phone. I still had twenty minutes. That was more than enough time to lose myself in the maze and making it out into the wedding hall.

Just as I was to run as far away from the cursed room, I watched like a deer caught in headlights as the door was violently thrown open. The smooth wooden sliding door was my only defense against the eager blond (who had the freaking biggest grin on her face that I thought her face was going to split in half) in pure white satin form fitting wedding dress behind it and right now it was buried in the wooden wall.

"You're so cute!" She squealed loudly, making my poor eardrums ache at the sheer volume. I wondered if she ever heard of an inside voice?

Ino noticed that she was blocking the entrance to her room and quickly moved out of the way so I could enter, not giving me enough time to protest and drive as far away from this wedding as humanly possible.

Swallowing the lump of uncertainty in the back of my throat, I walked bravely into the room.

Ino closed the door softly behind me and I couldn't help but feel like a mouse caught in a cat's cage, being sized up to see what was the best way to cook me.

I studied the room carefully, my back to Ino as my eyes nervously shifting to the expensive couch, vanity and closet, continuing to the floor and walls, and then pretending to be interested in the painting neatly nailed into the plaster wall, doing everything I could to avoid Ino's watchful gaze.

"Would you marry him if you were given the chance?"

To say I was surprised was the understatement year. I was shocked, as if I was in a storm, struck by lightening and paralyzed was permanently going to be in my medical folder for the rest of my life until the day I died.

"Excuse me." I asked as I turned to look at the insanely beautiful woman so she was in my line of vision.

"You heard me right." Her voice was determined, her eyes fierce with unwavering believe that Sasuke and I belonged together that I almost wanted to believe her. But the moment she crossed her arms over her chest, all I wanted to do scoff and say 'are you joking me?'. Looking at her she reminded me of a mule. A very stubborn, violent mule.

"I'm not going to lie to you. I was so jealous of you. All Sasuke would talk about was Sakura this and Sakura that, he never shut up about you." I rolled my eyes. I bet the only thing Sasuke said me was that I was some annoying whore or at least, something to that effect. At my obvious rudeness, Ino narrowed her eyes and the sudden fear that she was going to beat me to a bloody pulp came rushing back to me like a giant wave.

"So I had at private detective follow you," I muttered stalker under my breath. She paused for a moment, but continued as if I didn't say anything. "And then I understood."

I looked at her in disbelief. "What understanding? What possible could you understand from a private detective besides the fact you finally fell off your rocker."

"Why he loved you." Ino answered. Her voice changed. It went from being a steel wall, smooth, cold, distant, unwavering to gentle, warm, soft, a ray of sunlight in a clear cold winter day.

"He doesn't love me." I scoffed, focusing on a painting of a lovely princess, the biggest smile on her face as she held a child tightly wrapped in a blue blanket. I wish I could be like her. Be able to smile so sweetly, so dazzlingly, so perfectly and that it would affect everyone around me. But I knew that wasn't going to happen anytime soon in my lifetime. It was impossible.

"Yes he does." Ino voice turned cold again. But instead of scared, my blood started to boil under my skin. How dare she!

"Your to stubborn to see it. He always has this sweet smile when he thinks of you, he laughs when he thinks about you, all his inspiration for all his songs are **you**!" She was yelling her bell like voice turned cold, razor sharp, like a knife sliding down against a steel wall.

I shook my head and laughed. Yes laughed. "You know what I noticed. It's always about him. Sasuke this, Sasuke that and for once I want someone to understand what _**I'm **_going through. Not _**him**_. I know perfectly well what _**he's **_going through but can you tell me what _**I'm**_ going through."

She shook her head no.

"I waited for him for 12 years! Twelve long fucking _**years **_and look at what's my reward? I get his fiancé shoved down my throat. I'm hurting, I'm in pain and I'm tired of it. I'm tired of him breaking my heart, I'm sick of being the rebound girl when his life doesn't go the way he wanted it to. I'm sick of having to change _**my **_life just because he decided that he wants to be part of it _**now**_ when he had _**twelve years**_."

I glared at Ino as I tried to catch my breath. I watched as she flinched away, the hurt in her face visibly, the tension in the air like a thick fog but I didn't care. It felt really good to let go of all my bottled emotions, like I could finally breathe freely without worrying if someone figured out my true feelings behind my fake smiles.

"And I'm not going to let a blond bimbo who is 10 years younger than me decided who I should marry or not." And on that final note, I stormed at of the room, the door rattled in its frame as I slammed it shut.

If I only I had known that Sasuke had been hiding in the shadows, listening to the whole conversation.

The ceremony was about to start and I had sat in the middle, the most densely populated section of seats, making sure I sat by an extremely tall couple. It was one of the very few times I was glad to be short.

I know you're wondering, after that speech you thought at the least I would have at least left or been kicked out of the wedding by Ino's furious mother but neither of those events happened. There were several reasons I stayed.

One, I really didn't feel like going back into my car and driving through a baking car, lost in one of the biggest, busiest, heat smothering cities in the world. Two, Hinata went to through the trouble of making this dazzlingly sexy dress and if I left early I would feel like Hinata wasted her time for nothing. But the third reason was the most important. To tell you the truth this wedding was more than a ceremony for those two. It felt like one for me. I felt like if I stayed and witnessed the wedding, it would feel real. Like he was really gone, out of my life and I would be left alone to walk down a path of misery and loneliness. And as long as I'm telling the truth now, I really wanted to see Sasuke just one last time.

I know it wasn't the best life but at least I knew how to deal with it. And who knew, maybe I would find someone else.

Then the sickly soft, cliché music began to vibrate in the open air and I felt the knot of fear in my stomach.

It was starting and I just knew something bad was going to happen.

Sasuke appeared in the doorway, wearing a black suit with a dark navy blue undershirt. Right at that moment all I could think of was how damn sexy he looked and what I wanted to do to him with my teeth. The moment I thought those dirty thoughts, I blushed a bright shade of red. After shaking my head, I placed my head in my hands and sighed. That daydream was never going to happen again.

Anyway, back to the wedding. Latched onto his arm was Ino's mother, with the biggest ear-to-ear grin on her face that I feared her face would crack, just like her daughters ten minutes ago.

It was odd for me to see Sasuke with a mother figure. I had always known that his father didn't approve of his dream of being a musician and like for generations he wanted him to be a doctor and lawyer. So when Sasuke said no, it was only natural that his father disowned and kick him out. His mother tried to stop her husband but ultimately never pushed the subject for fear of a divorce.

I knew Sasuke understood his mother's reasons. His mother couldn't work, something about her nerves in her fingers never worked quite right, so if her husband was to leave her she would financially in trouble. But despite him knowing that, I really never that he approved of her actions. Though Sasuke had always been a leader and a follower of his dreams all his life so I didn't think that he could understand.

That's how it continued with my mind losing itself in the sea of bittersweet memories, longing for the past.

By the time, I was snapped out of my thoughts, everyone was standing up, the traditional song filled the air with its sweet but cliché notes, and I couldn't help but hum along with it.

Ever since, I was a little girl, I loved that song. Like any woman, I dreamed about being the one to walk down the aisle in a beautiful white dress, about to marry the man of my dreams

I stood up quickly before anyone noticed and secretly gawked like the rest of the crowd as Ino gracefully walked down the aisle, in the dazzling white satin wedding dress, her arm protectively hooked around her fathers.

I could see those light blue ocean eyes shifting around, most likely looking for my unusual hair color. As I watched her walk closer and closer to my section of the seats, her eyes lingering nearing closer and closer toward me, I ducked. The tall woman next to me glared, but right now I didn't have time to tell her it was an accident and that I didn't do it intentionally, so I just glared back at her. Her eyes narrowed lower, and for a moment I thought she was going to start yelling at me but she just turned her head away with a humph.

Ino looked disappointed when she made it to Sasuke, probably because she couldn't find me but I had a ghost of a smile on my face. My plan was working.

The priest was about to begin but Sasuke stopped him.

That's when remembered how stubborn the man could be and I panicked. If I remembered correctly, I think my thought process went something like this. Leave. Leave. Leave. Obviously from that, you can probably guess that I ran as quietly as I could, ignoring the soft yells of protest, before anything major happened that could be blamed on me.

"I learned recently that a woman's heart is hypocritical in a sense." The gentle spring breeze coincidentally came by, stretching his sexy suave voice to my unwilling ears. I didn't want to hear his voice. It would want to make me stay, make me want to turn around and yell to the world and the crowd that I loved him and I didn't want him to marry that blond bitch.

I was about to take another step but it was too late. His voice sent shivers down my spine, my heart racing, breathing became a labored task and my mind had managed to block out everything but his husky baritone voice and my longing for the past.

"While they can be strong, standing up for her man when the rest of the world is against him, they can also be weak. They can easily break into pieces from that same man when that man does something incredibly stupid." I heard some the married woman in the crowd chuckle as they patted their husband's knee, while the husbands frowned sourly at the comment.

"But a woman's heart can do something a man's could never do. They can accept us for the stupid idiots we are, they can love us, care for us in a way no one else possibly can. And that's why I think men cheat, because the woman's heart closes, they go to a woman's heart that will let them in. But I did something stupid. I didn't cheat. Instead, I did something much much worse. I left to better my career. And when I thought she was perfectly fine she was really in pain, begging me silently to save her but I was too wrapped in my own little world to notice she was even there. And I realized recently that all I can really say to her sincerely is that I love her." Everyone clapped loudly and I watched as Ino patted his arm, a giant smile on her face.

"And what if she scared? What if she believes that you didn't mean a word you said, that you're lying to her? What if she was sacred that in the future your just going to get up and leave like every other time and there is nothing she can do to stop you?"

Everyone gasped when I yelled out, the wild clicks of cameras all around me but I ignored them. I was too focused on those midnight orbs, trying to put as much distance between us.

I was not going to fall again. I was not going to hurt again. I was supposed to be watching him get married to the woman right next to him, which I called a bimbo, and I was supposed to be left out of this. So why did he have to include me, damn it?

"I know she's scared." I listened as his steps got closer, my heart started to beat faster. I took another step backwards.

"I know that I broke her heart one to many times to be forgiven. I know that if she forgives me, there won't be a second chance. But I know, in her heart, she knows that she rather deal with an arrogant bastard like me than be married to someone she doesn't love at all."

To say I was surprised when my back hit the shrine arch, was a little under exaggeration. I wasn't scared, I was _**terrified**_. I knew that he was going to pull me in with his sweet word and that would be it. My heart would swell with happiness; start to heal itself and then _**crash**_. Somehow, someway he as going to ruin it all and leave me to pick the barely visible pieces.

"What if she called you a liar?" He had finally reached me, damn his long legs, and I could feel his hot breath on my face, his chest so close to mine that every time a gentle breeze flew through, his suit jacket fluttering against my clothed skin.

"I would say she's lying?" I could _hear _the smirk on his face; I didn't even have to look at his face to know that it was there.

"What if she said that out of all people at this wedding, you're the biggest liar out of them all?" I replied as witty as I could, with my nerves going haywire.

"I would tell her that she is loosing her touch." He answered back, his voice so low and husky, just so damn irresistible it took all my will power to keep thinking logically and trying to tear his face off with my lips.

I finally had enough. His voice, his suffocating scent, those piercing orbs, the gentle touch of the collar of his tuxedo, something made me snap and I started crying. I never cried in front of him. I knew he thought people who cried were weak and the last thing I wanted to be was seen as weak in front of him.

However, he didn't look at me with disgust, instead he was staring at me with an amused but soft look and I swore that I melted to a puddle of goo right there.

Without warning, I grabbed Sasuke by the collar of his neatly pressed tuxedo and crashed my lips onto his. The kiss was amazing. Sure, it was sweet and chaste but there was another quality to it. There was passion. A burning passion that seemed to make his scent all the sweeter, his eyes all the more lustful and clouded, his lips even more tempting. Our hands started to wander, mine up his chest, enjoying the feeling of the taunt muscles before they snaked their way around his neck. His hands settled on my waist, one stroking my back, multiplying the shivers that made my whole body numb that I was sure I would have crashed to the floor if it wasn't for the pole and Sasuke holding me up.

We reluctantly separated for some much-needed air, laying our foreheads together as we tried to catch our breath.

"Will you marry me?" He whispered as his long sooty eyelashes brushed against my upper cheek.

I sighed. "Okay." I replied. "But I better get that ring I always wanted." Then we kissed again.

Suddenly nothing mattered. Not that gasping crowd. Not the excited Ino who was bouncing up and down, doing a victory dance. Not Hinata or TenTen who just showed up, yelling at the top of their lungs. Surely not the rumors that would be spreading like fire for at least a month. None of it. Because right there and then, I was happy.

Sasuke was in my arms.

Mine only.

No one else's. Not Ino's. Not any other actresses.

Just mine.

And that's all that mattered.

Besides, I had my whole life to make him pay.

**Author's Notes:** This is a long one-shot so it may take you a couple of days to read it. There is really nothing to say about it other than I tried to incorporate what happened in the show and I may have got the time line a little screwed up but I hope you will forgive me on that one.

Pages: 47 in Veranda Font

38 in Times New Roman

Word Count: 18,191


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